


"I Love You" Never Felt Like Any Blessing

by meredithhildebrand



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, They are so in love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, honestly my favourite characters in the whole world, i guess I'm okay at writing fluff, old story but I'm posting anyways, this is from like almost a year ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meredithhildebrand/pseuds/meredithhildebrand
Summary: FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF





	

* * *

  
  
BAZ  
  
I’m staring at Snow: I don’t know why.   
Actually that’s a lie. I’m staring at him because Merlin, he’s bloody perfect, and I will never have him.   
I’m laying in my bed, my arm underneath my pillow. I’m breathing softly. It’s just before dawn; I always try to wake up at this time so that when the sky cracks open and red-orange light streams through our window, I can see the light that illuminates Snow’s sleeping, still figure.   
When that happens, Snow looks like a fucking angel, messy hair and blue eyes and tawny skin.   
I love him; I always will.   
My heart aches with love, and I’m suddenly transported back to fifth year, when I woke up one morning and realized that I didn’t hate Snow as much as I thought I did. I remember racing down to the catacombs and draining every rat I could find.   
I felt full for days.   
I keep staring at him, he flops over onto his back, his messy, golden-bronze hairs falling onto his pillow. He mumbles something in his sleep, but I can’t understand it, despite my vampire hearing. I swallow, and say the three words that I say to Simon Snow every day, but will never hear him say back.   
“I love you, Simon,” I whisper softly into the dim light of our room.   
I wonder if he ever hears me; if he ever pretends to be sleeping, when’s he really awake and can hear what I say to him when it’s only me, him, and the quiet light of our room.   
I wonder.   
On some days, it’s so bad that I lay in bed, wide awake, and speak to him words of affection and love, that he’ll never hear. It’s so bad that sometimes, I can’t bear to see the sight of him; I fear what it does to me. I say words that I fear to say, words that make me feel something so strong for Simon, it’s all I can do to not kiss him every morning when I wake up.   
One November morning, when the room was completely dark, I sat next to Snow’s bedside. I watched him for hours; until the room slowly began to lighten, then I raced back to my bed and pretended that I was asleep. I couldn’t bear for him to catch me doing something so foolish, yet so right.   
  
That was the best night of my life.

 

  
  
  
I get out of bed once I can’t stare at Simon anymore; he’s stirring. I stand up and walk over to my wardrobe, and pull out my uniform, then quickly slip into the bathroom and change. I hear Snow banging around the room, and I wince inwardly.   
“Would you bloody keep it down, Snow?” I yell, my voice stiff and sharp. I hear him mumble a swear full of disgust and pain stabs through my chest; why am I such an idiotic prat to him?   
I don’t know why: I’ll be surprised if I ever find out.   
I suddenly hear a knock on the door.   
“Baz, open up the door!” Snow yells; his voice is undeniably agitated.   
I sneer even though he can’t see me.   
“Go out the window,” I yell back; Snow growls loudly and walks away; I can hear his footsteps fading. I hear him slam the wardrobe door shut, or was that our own door? I can’t tell the difference usually despite my superhuman hearing.   
I hesitantly peek out the door; I very slightly opened it.   
The room is empty. Snow’s nowhere to be found.

 

 

****  
  
I step outside the bathroom door and sigh inwardly, picking up my wand. The handle feels strong and sturdy in my hands, and for the thousandth time in my pathetic life, I feel fragile, like I might break and all I need is Simon Snow to hold me up, even though I know that that would never happen.   
He hates me, and he assumes that I hate him even more, even though I love him more than anything in this whole world.   
I love him so much but he’ll never know, not unless I tell him.   
I can’t imagine telling him; it’s too much of a risk.   
Instead I just keep all of my feelings bottled up, hoping one day they’ll come out in some extremely awful yet perfect way.

  
But it never will, and it never has.

I’ve come across multiple times to confess my undying love for him, such as the chimera incident, and the voice recorder. Maybe even the time I pushed him down the bloody stairs.   
I could’ve gotten down there fast enough to catch him; I would hold him in my arms tightly and whisper into his ear all the words I’m too afraid to say out loud.

Then, then.   
  
  
Then I would kiss him for hours on end; letting out all of my unsaid feelings.  
  
  
  
  
SIMON  
  
  
I’m fucking furious with Baz right now; I could just kill him. Really kill him.   
I haven’t felt this angry with him since the voice recorder incident. Sure, we have arguments about nearly everything every single day, but I don’t normally get furious with him; I do, but it’s normally never enough for me to want to bloody kill him.  
  
  
*****  
  
I’m walking down the Great Lawn, enjoying the early October air. It’s surprisingly warm for England, especially at this time of year.   
As I look out at the grass, nostalgia pierces my chest.   
I still can’t believe it’s my last year here; my last year up in the Tower, my last year walking on this lawn, last year of Cook Pritchard’s sour cherry scones.   
My last year with Baz Pitch; after this school year ends I’ll definitely see him again, I know that for sure.

I would never want to see him again.

I sit down on the lawn and sigh, pulling up my knees into my chest. I pull out my wand out of my back pocket of my trousers and wave it around a couple of times; when I do this, gleaming sparks fly out of the top of my wand. They’re almost an orangey-yellow colour; they look like the last melting drips of a sunset, just before the sunset glowing light fades into twilit lavender.   
I don’t have to do any sort of spell to do that; I just think and it happens.

I’m suddenly startled out of my mindset by the sound of someone walking up behind me, and immediately without even turning around I know that it’s Baz. He’s huffing.   
What the hell is Baz doing here?  
I spin around and I’m on my feet in lighting speed, my wand pointed at his chest. His messy black hair falls in his eyes, which is startling, because it’s Baz fucking Pitch. He never has a hair out of place, never mind his whole being.  
My arm is strong; my grip on my wand doesn’t waver.   
“What the fuck are you doing here, Baz?” I ask, daggers in my voice. Baz just stands there, silent. I’ve never seen him like this, with his cheeks slightly rosy and black hair falling in his eyes, his uniform not completely impeccable. If I didn’t hate him so much, I would laugh.   
I don’t laugh.   
Baz doesn’t say anything, just begins to walk towards me, despite the fact that he’s only three feet in front of me.  
He takes a step closer; if he wanted to, he could grab my face. I could put my hands on his shoulders.   
“Baz?” I say, my voice stiff and angry. “What are you-,” I’m shocked out of my words by his lips pressing onto mine.

 

BAZ  
  
Dear Merlin. What am I doing?  
My lips are pressed onto Simon’s; I feel him tense beneath me. I don’t even know why I’m here. I just knew that I had to tell him everything, right now, despite the rejection and heartbreak that I was inevitably going to have to face.  
Simon’s lips are warm; they taste slightly like cherries and butter, the prat. He was obviously eating sour cherry scones before this.   
I don’t mind; his lips taste sweet and soft. They are so soft and smooth, it’s like kissing clouds. I cup his cheeks with my fingers and deepen the kiss; I’m extremely surprised that he doesn’t pull away. I think I feel his hands sliding up and down my arms, they squeeze my biceps and I stifle a moan. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him closer, until he hits my chest with his. He’s so warm against me.   
I pull away and am immediately startled by the look on his face.   
His blue eyes are bright, and a rosy blush dusts his freckle-covered cheeks. I grab his hand.   
“Simon, I-,” I say, but Simon shakes his head.   
“What was that, Baz?” he murmurs; his eyes are penetrating into mine.   
This was the worst idea you’ve ever had.  
Merlin, why did I do this?  
I pull away, but Simon’s quick; he grabs my wrists.   
“No, Baz. You’re not getting out of this, not now, no matter what you try to do,” he says; his voice is normal, but silky smooth. I open my mouth.   
“Simon, I love you,” I whisper, and my shoulders feel like a thousand pounds were lifted off of them, and I’m finally free, free.  
Simon’s eyes are wide. “You- what?” he says, his voice quiet yet incredulous. “You love me?” he asks, and I nod slowly.   
Something strange flashes across his face.   
“Yes, Simon. I love you; I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you,” I say and clasp both his hands. He gasps quietly. “You’re the sun and stars to me, Simon. I look at you every day and wish that we could be together,” I say.   
I let everything out, ever single little thing that I’ve wanted to say to him. Snow’s face turns from shock to confusion multiple times, and finally, his blue eyes rest on the emotion that I realize is incredulously confused.   
He doesn’t say anything; I don’t blame him.   
His grip loosens on my wrists and I yank them back, wishing immediately that I never said any of that, despite how light my limbs feel.   
Snow’s gaping at me; his blue eyes are wide. “You love me?” he asks, his voice quiet. I nod, and begin to turn away, but Simon grabs one of my wrists. “For how long?” he asks.   
I take a deep breath. “Since we were fifteen,” I say. Simon’s mouth drops open.   
“Fifteen?” he breathes, his blue eyes flashing.   
“Yes, Simon. Fifteen,” I say, hoping that I’m not blushing; Simon is, and a bright rosy shade of pink dusts his freckled-covered cheeks. It’s all I can do to not kiss every one of them; I hold my body tense and straight, not letting Simon know how incredibly happy yet sad I feel.   
Snow lets out a deep breath, but doesn’t say anything. I hesitantly grab one of his hands, and when he doesn’t pull away, I tighten my grip and squeeze his fingers with my own. Simon sharply inhales a breath.   
Without a second thought, with my free hand, I cup his cheek with my fingertips and brush his skin. “I love you,” I breathe, just to make this seem real because if it’s a dream, it feels so fucking real. My chest is on fire and I think I’m burning, but I know I’m not. Simon’s lips are open, just waiting for me to kiss them, but I hold back. I’ve never felt anything like this before; never have I imagined that I would be this close to him, I never thought I’d hold him like this, under my thumb.   
This must be a dream; it has to be. Just has to be a dream.   
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

  
  
SIMON  
  
Baz’s eyes are closed, and he looks so vulnerable. I’ve never seen him like this. Never.   
Suddenly, I lean in; my body leans forward, without my fucking consent, and my lips touch Baz’s.   
His mouth is cold, colder than Agatha’s. I don’t know why I’m doing this.  
I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.   
Baz tenses, but relaxes, and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I twist an arm around his shoulders and into his silky black hair, enjoying the feel of it in my hands. Merlin and Morgana, what the hell am I doing?  
My mind is completely blank; all that’s going through it is Baz, Baz, Baz, Baz, Baz.   
  
BAZ  
  
Snow’s mouth is so warm. I cup his cheeks with both my hands and deepen the kiss, and sigh his name against his mouth. This feels so wrong, yet so right, which is why I must be dreaming, but I know I’m not, because in my dreams, I always wake up just when Snow’s lips look close enough to touch mine but never do.   
This isn’t a dream, because I think that I feel Snow’s soft lips on mine. They’re so warm. I love him. I love him. I love him. I love him.

I love you, Simon Snow.

More than you will ever know.  
  
SIMON  
  
I’ve lost all conscious thought at this point; all I feel is Baz’s lips on mine and his hands wrapping around my back and waist and his cool breath tickling my mouth.   
“Baz?” I say against his mouth. We’re sharing the same warm breath; our breathing is low and heavy. I pull back slightly.  
Baz swallows and runs his hands through his hair. “I, I’m sorry, Simon,” he says, his voice quick.   
“Sorry for what?” I contradict, pulling his hands away from his hair and clasping them in mine. They’re cold, and I bring them up to my mouth, and kiss each back of each hand. I smile at Baz once I’m done.   
Baz’s eyes are dark; frantic, and I swallow.   
“Baz, you- you did nothing wrong, okay?” I say to him softly. Baz sniffs and licks his lips, and inches closer to me.   
“Simon, how can you do this?” he says quietly, even though there are daggers in his voice.   
“Do what?” I reply. “Trust you?”   
Baz laughs a scornful laugh and looks away. His cheeks are slightly rosy and he runs his fingers through his dark hair, tangling the silky strands. He makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and sighs deeply. He looks frazzled and frantic; before today if he had done this I would’ve been falling on the ground laughing with the fact that Baz Pitch isn’t completely perfect. I don’t laugh, all I have the heart to do is stare at him and hope he knows that whatever he feels for me is okay because I feel the same for him.   
I love him. I think.  
I really, really, really hope I do.

 

BAZ  
  
Merlin, I should have never done this. I pull away from Snow and begin to walk backwards away from him, away from everything I’ve ever wanted.   
Why am I walking away from the person I love most in the world? The only person who inspires me to live, the only person who I’ve ever truly cared for, the only person who I want to make happy but never can?   
I swallow and look at Simon. His blue eyes are misty; I don’t know if it’s tears or something else.   
“Baz,” Simon chokes out, and my walking recedes.   
“What, Snow?” I say back, exasperated with him, but mostly with my newfound inability to do anything even remotely warm or kind for him.   
“Come here, please,” Simon replies softly.   
I do.

 

 

 

*****  
  
  
SIMON

  
I`m lying on my bed on my side, with my arm pillowed underneath my head. I`m watching Baz finally stir from his sleep; it`s Saturday and all I want is to lay in bed with him all day long. I`m grinning uncontrollably; I can`t stop grinning. I sigh happily and smile when Baz finally wakes up; his eyes open and his head turns to me. For a few moments, his eyes are glassy but when they finally focus, he sleepily smiles at me and my heart swells with love for him. I don`t know how long I`ve felt like this towards him, but I know this feeling was always there; it just took my heart to catch up to it.   
“Morning, Baz,” I whisper. Baz smiles again and gets out of bed.   
I almost gasp. He’s beautiful. His bare chest is the shade of snow, and he’s muscular; more so than I thought, but he was on the football team, I realize abruptly, so that’s got to count for something. His stomach is muscular. He has a freaking six-pack. Baz Pitch has a six-pack. It makes sense because he is on the football team here at Watford, but still. It’s strange seeing him without a shirt after living with him for seven years; we never dressed in front of one another. Goes to show how much paranoia we felt towards each other.   
He walks over to my bed and lies down beside me. He radiates heat; I’m honestly surprised he does since he’s a vampire. Aren’t vampires always cold?  
“Morning, love,” he says softly into my neck. He kisses the skin there and wraps an arm around my waist.   
I suppress a laugh and look upwards to face him. Baz plants a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and I smile. He presses closer to me and kisses my cheek, then my temple, and then he kisses my bare shoulder blade. I’ve never seen him be this gentle, this caring, this kind, to me in my whole life.   
Baz kisses the top of my head and breathes in through my thick curls.   
I flop onto my back and stare at him. He smiles at me widely, and I see his fangs slightly.   
“Morning,” I say again. Baz traces a pattern with his fingertip softly on my cheek, and then he kisses it softly. He looks at me and runs his hand through my curls and I close my eyes.   
He kisses each of my closed eyelids.   
“I love you,” he whispers. I smile and open one eye.   
“You do?” I say slyly. Baz nods.   
“More than anything,” he says softly, and something warm and comforting fills my whole body. I reach my head upwards and kiss his mouth. It’s warm; warmer than last night.   
Last night.   
“You really love me?” I ask softly, and stare at Baz, whose already-dark eyes seem to blacken.  
  
  
BAZ  
  
Crowley.   
I’ve gotten myself into the situation where I guaranteed have no choice but empty out all of my unsaid feelings towards him. No matter how many times I kiss him, it will never be enough to express how much I really love him.   
Picking up an unfathomably enormous amount of confidence, I begin to speak: “Simon, I have loved you since we were fifteen, and maybe even before that. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I’ve never wavered. You are the moon, stars, and sun to me, Simon. You inspire me to become a better person, even if I taunt you and tease you relentlessly,” I blurt out in a breath. Simon’s eyes widen, and I don’t stop. I’ve gotten too far into this now to pull back. I continue with a deep, long breath.   
“Simon, you are incredibly perfect to me; you’ve always been, and you’ve never been anything less. I live for you, Simon Snow,” I say, and take his hand tightly in mine.   
My feelings are bottled up, but the lid on the bottle has been finally lifted, and I admit everything to Simon. His eyes go wide and his mouth slightly opens.   
I don’t know how long I talk for; but I know it’s been a long time.   
When I’m finished, Simon’s eyes are bright; he hasn’t interrupted this monologue I’ve just said to him.   
He stares at me, and he blushes slightly.   
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” I say softly, and hear Simon take a sharp inhalation.   
I don’t know what he thinks of me now; probably that I’m some sort of sappy, unreliable love confessor, but in a way, I am.   
I’ve just let out all of my love for him in words that I have been too afraid to say out loud.   
I say everything slow enough for Simon’s eyes to widen and his mouth to slightly part more than usual.   
“Simon,” I say, but am immediately interrupted by the warm familiarity of Simon’s lips against mine. The kiss is deep; frantic and fast, and I stifle a moan. How can he make me so weak when all I’ve ever wanted is to be strong?  
I slowly ease onto Simon; I don’t want to crush him with my weight. I tangle my hands in his hair and sigh his name against his mouth. I lean away from his mouth and kiss every mole on his face; each of the three on his right cheek, the two below his left ear, and the one on his left eye. I linger there, and breathe quietly for what seems like hours until Simon leans up and kisses my nose.   
“What are you thinking about?” he asks; quietly, slowly, slightly huskily. I look up at him and smile.   
“Nothing. Just that you are the closest thing that I’ve had to perfect,” I say quietly.   
Simons grins and cups my face in his hands then brings my mouth down to his. I cup his face and murmur that he’s beautiful against his mouth. He makes a contented noise in the back of his throat; I can hear it vibrate, and deepens the kiss. Our bare stomachs are pressed together; his warmth against my cold. I sigh and try not to whimper; it’s a sorry attempt at it because Snow deepens the kiss even more and wraps his arms tightly around me.

 

SIMON  
  
I swing my legs around Baz’s waist and squeeze slightly; he moans quietly and I smile against his mouth.   
“Crowley, Snow,” Baz murmurs; his voice is deep and husky, and I open my eyes to see his. His lips are parted slightly and his breathing is heavy and low. His black hair falls in his eyes and I brush the strands away, revealing his dark eyes. Our lips brush against each other’s and Baz runs his fingers over my cheeks. His touch is incredibly gentle; almost like he thinks that I’ll break like glass if he touches me any harder.   
“Baz, I’m okay,” I whisper quietly against his mouth. Baz nods; I can feel his mouth moving upwards then back down. He pulls away and breathes through his nose.   
“I know you are,” he says and I smile. I swing my legs off his back and straighten them out. Baz swallows, then kisses the mole on my cheek and the tip of my nose gently. I tilt my head upwards to meet his lips; they’re warm and soft; I think he’s fed yesterday. No matter how close we have gotten, Baz is still uncomfortable with talking about his vampire-ism. I don’t blame him; I would be like that to. We did spend seven years hating each other, so I get why he would still be apprehensive.

I lick my lips and sigh against his mouth. “Baz, love,” I say against his still-working mouth. Baz is actually a good kisser; he doesn’t overdo on his tongue, and every time he brushes his lips against mine, I get a warm, fuzzy feeling that spreads throughout my whole body. Once he deepens his kiss, it’s always incredible. We fit perfectly together; I know that it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. We fit so fucking perfectly together; our mouths and everything else just clicks.  
I love him so much. I can’t believe it took me this long to realize it; I’ve never been this oblivious before. Well, now that I think about it, maybe I have.   
Baz grunts and pulls away, then wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. My head falls onto his collarbone and I bend down to pull the blanket over us; I’ve gotten cold. Baz presses a soft kiss onto my head and I snuggle closer to him. Baz wraps one arm around my waist; the other one tangles in my bronze curls.   
“I love you,” he murmurs into my head. I smile and close my eyes, suddenly feeling tired even though it’s probably not even 10:00 AM. I think Penny might be coming up today, but I can’t remember because all I feel is Baz pressing gentle kisses to my nose and cheeks and forehead; I’m losing all conscious thought. Baz’s touch is soft, gentle.   
“Baz,” I murmur softly, but don’t get to finish my sentence because I feel his lips on mine. I wrap an arm around his neck and lean into the kiss, my tiredness soon fading away.

  
BAZ  
  
Simon leans into the kiss and I subconsciously feel his hands travelling up my shoulders; they wrap around my neck and hold it. I run my hands through his curls and gently slip my tongue into his mouth; it opened without difficulty. I sigh and try not to whimper. I feel shaky and weak all over; I grip Snow’s shoulders and hold them so that my hands stop shaking. My head feels light and slightly nauseous. Snow makes me feel light-headed and dizzy; I feel like I’m falling down a steep cliff whenever he touches me.   
I think that both Snow and I feel like these days are perfect; all I want to do is lay in bed all day with him, and that’s what I intend to do.   
Snow grunts and I pull away, startled with the noise.   
“Simon, what is it?” I ask softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Simon smiles at me softly, then points towards the door. He nods slightly, and I understand after a short moment. I pull away from him and walk over to the door, and then lock it quickly. When I look back, my heart melts all over again. Simon is staring at me with his golden, tawny skin, and his blue eyes look amazingly bright. Faint rays of sunlight stream through the window and catch on his hair; his body is outlined in a shade of golden, and I practically skip back to the bed. I still can’t believe this is happening; only something this beautiful and perfect has happened in my dreams, where they can’t stay forever. I lean back onto the bed and gather Simon in my arms; all I want to do is hold him all day long. Snow smiles at me and rests his head on my collarbone, and I can feel the tips of his curls tickle my jawline. I press kisses to his head, and absentmindedly run my fingers gently down his biceps then back up to his shoulders. Snow turns his head to the side and I feel his blue eyes staring up at me; I look down at him and smile. I feel incredibly happy, and just for once, I live in the moment.   
I’m not that soft with him; but today, I feel like I should be, to let him know how much I really love him. I don’t intend on moving at all today; I intend on staying here, holding him, kissing him, talking to him.   
Doing everything I’ve wanted to do him since I was fifteen.

 

SIMON  
  
  
“Simon?” Baz asks. I look up at him.   
“Yeah, what is it?” I reply.   
Baz clears his throat, and presses a hand to his forehead, almost as if he’s thinking.   
“Baz, what is it?” I ask softly, cupping his cheeks with my fingertips.   
We’re laying side by side underneath the blanket now, and Baz stares right through me. It feels that way, it really does. He bites his tongue; I can see it because his jaw tenses. He runs his fingers over my cheeks, then tugs me closer. He leans forward and kisses the skin right between my eyebrows, then he trails soft kisses down the bridge of my nose. He lingers there, and I smile a small smile, and hook my fingers behind his ears. Baz looks at me; it’s a look of love, and care, and affection. I’ve never seen him look like this before. And over me, of all people. It doesn’t make any sense. I can’t believe he thinks about me like this; I’ve never thought this would happen, but now that it has, I realize how much I love it. I love this feeling, and him, more than magic, more than Watford, a million times more than I’ve ever loved Agatha. Baz smiles at me, then catches my lips with his. My mouth opens and welcomes his soft tongue, and I hook a leg over his waist and tug him closer. He hits my chest softly with his; I can feel his heart beating, or is that my own? Do vampires even have heartbeats?   
Baz cups my cheeks with his fingers and deepens the kiss, and I say his name quietly against his mouth.

  
BAZ  
  
  
I want to feel strong; I don`t know if I can. Simon feels so strong in my arms, and I feel weak. Why do I feel weak? I’ve never felt weak before, only when I was beginning to understand my vampire-ism. All the years until I was fourteen were absolutely awful; I didn’t know how to feed because had told me how to. Daphne and Father never told me, even when I was young, and I was ten when I really felt the changes. I had wanted to eat everything living; birds, my father, my step-mother. At some of the most awful points, I had wanted to skin myself alive and drain my own body.   
I have never wanted to drain Snow. Never. I have never wanted to hurt him. I know, it’s unbelievable. I could’ve drained him some quiet night, when he was sleeping, but I didn’t. I didn’t because I loved him so fucking much that killing him, draining him, hurting him- it was never an option, not even for a blood-sucking monster like myself. I couldn’t bear to lose him, to have him die, from the actions of me. I just couldn’t.   
Simon kisses both of my cheeks and the tip of my nose, then leans in to kiss my mouth. His mouth is soft and warm, and it tastes like sour cherry scones, and my mind is full of light and dark, black and white. Simon pulls away and kisses the skin right below my jawline, and my back slightly arches, and when I breathe out, his name comes with it. I feel that Simon is smiling, and I run my fingers through his curls. Simon kisses my cheeks and then the tip of my nose, then he makes his way to my forehead. His touch is soft, light, and gentle.   
Unable to contain myself any longer, I grab his face gently and pull his mouth to mine. I tangle my hands in his curls and continue to kiss him.

  
SIMON  
  
Baz pulls away from my mouth and skims his thumbs over my cheeks, then leans forward and kisses my nose. He trails soft kisses up the bridge of my nose, then the skin between my eyebrows. His breathing is low and heavy, almost husky, and I tilt my chin upwards to catch his mouth with my own. I feel Baz pull away and look over at the alarm clock that rests on the surface of my bedside table.   
“What time is it, love?” I ask, trailing my fingers over his collarbone. Baz pulls his lips together in a straight line, then looks back at me.   
“11:30,” he says. I smile.   
“Baz,” I ask. Baz looks down at me; I know I can ask this question.   
“If you loved me since fifth year, why had you acted like you hated me so much?” I asked softly, quickly. A breath catches in Baz’s throat and he shifts so that he’s laying beside me. I turn my head to the side to look at him, and see that his hands are knotting together tightly; the knuckles have a pinkish glow to them. It looks strange in contrast to his pale, white skin that I have come to love. He runs his hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze.   
“Simon, I couldn’t bear the sight of you in fifth year,” he says softly. I nod and close my eyes; I’m tired- too tired to continue with this conversation.   
Just as I doze off, I subconsciously feel Baz pulling me into his arms. He presses kisses to my head and murmurs that he loves me and that I’m perfect and beautiful. I smile, and feel him press a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose.   
“Goodnight, love,” he whispers, and tightens his grip around me. I snuggle into him, and fall asleep with the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.  
  
BAZ  
  
Simon is beautiful when he sleeps. I know that I spent seven years watching him sleep, but I had never imagined that I would watch him from this angle, with his head on my chest and my fingertips gently caressing his temples and cheekbones.   
I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, then tilt backwards and settle back onto the pillows. Simon makes a noise that sounds between a whimper and a grunt, and I wrap my arms around him tighter.   
“It’s okay, Simon. It’s okay, I love you, you’re safe, you’re safe,” I whisper quietly into his curls. The midday sun streams through the curtains, and illuminates Simon’s sleeping figure. A halo of golden light gleams around his head, and I smile, only because he can’t see it.  
  
***  
  
SIMON  
  
I am awoken by the familiar pressure of Baz’s mouth against mine. I take him by the back of his neck and hold it, feeling Baz’s arms wrap around me; they pull me upwards so that I’m on top of him. We kiss for a few moments longer before I feel Baz pull away. His cheeks are flushed and his hair falls in his eyes; I brush the strands away.   
I know it’s after noon; the light in the room has faded from a cold, golden light to a slight orangey colour. It makes the blush on Baz’s cheeks look neon.   
I smile and kiss his left collarbone, then the right, then I linger on my lips just barely brushing his. Our breathing is low, and slightly heavy.   
I tip my forehead against his; I feel our lips brushing, and I feel Baz’s hands cupping my face. My hands are clasped together underneath his neck. I rest my cheek on his chest sideways and stare at the wall. I feel Baz press light, delicate kisses to my cheekbones and temples; with each kiss, he murmurs that he loves me, and that I’m incredible, and that I’m absolutely perfectly beautiful. I’ve never had anyone say those kinds of things to me before; Agatha wasn’t really the sappy kind. Agatha barely kissed me, now that I’m thinking about it. I would usually be the one to initiate any sort of physical contact; I was the more emotionally-invested person in the relationship.   
Agatha. I miss her, sort of. It’s just weird not being able to talk to her like I could before, even though our conversations were deteriorating at the end of seventh year; I had caught her holding hands with Baz in the Wood.   
Baz leans into my neck; I can feel his breath on the skin there. “Simon, are you alright?” he asks softly. I nod, startled from my own thoughts, and feel Baz press a kiss to the back of my neck, then I feel him turn to the side, facing the same wall that I am. He wraps his arms around my waist and holds me tightly. His fingers skim my stomach, and it sends a shiver through my body. I feel his breath tickle my shoulder blades and the back of my neck, and I close my eyes, tired.

  
BAZ  
  
I think Simon’s sleeping, so I pull the blanket tightly over us and close my eyes, hoping to sleep.

  
When I wake, Simon is still sleeping. I tilt my head over to the table to see what time it is, and it’s just after 3:00. Crowley, this day has gone by quickly. Kissing just makes the day speed by, I realize.   
Snow makes a stirring noise, and I feel him waking up. I run my hand over his curls; the other was is tightly wrapped around his bare stomach. Merlin, his skin is so warm. It’s almost like my own personal furnace, I realize with a laugh.   
“What’s so funny?” Simon asks groggily; his voice is still masked with sleep. I stop laughing and pull him into my chest so that I can press gentle kisses to his face and head. Simon pulls back but I catch him, and hook my arms underneath his own and pull him forward.   
“You’re so warm,” I whisper into his ear, with my lips just barely brushing his earlobe. He laughs, and I kiss his jawline, and wrap my arms around him. He rests his cheek on my chest, and our arms are intertwined; over and under ourselves.  



End file.
